


Don't Care for the Critics

by Minxchester



Series: Born For This [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angry Steve Rogers, Creampie, Gay Sex, M/M, Multi, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minxchester/pseuds/Minxchester
Summary: "The itch deepened under Steve’s skin. 'You’re pushing me on purpose, Stark.'"Series is inspired and titled based on the song "Born For This" by The Score.[For readers who come here for specific ship tags; this is part of a multi-part series of Avengers porn. Each character is linked to multiple ships. The current installment is centrally Steve x Tony.]
Relationships: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov/Bruce Banner (Mentioned), Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Clint Barton (Mentioned, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov (Mentioned) - Relationship, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (mentioned)
Series: Born For This [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514225
Comments: 8
Kudos: 89





	Don't Care for the Critics

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I needed to update this series. :D

The party was wonderful right through to its near-end; once all the guests had left, and it was just the team, they relaxed and left the clean-up for later. Everyone was having one final drink, warmth and laughter making the atmosphere cozy and pleasant as the night wore on.

And then Ultron revealed himself, staggering into the main space on incomplete legs, dragging wires and cords in his wake and emitting literal sparks when everything erupted into chaos.

In the aftermath, Steve rallied the group to make sure that everyone was alright. All injuries were minor, and none of them needed more than basic first aid, so he encouraged everyone to gather in the lab so that they could handle that far away from all of the glass shards left from shattered windows and decor. 

And of course, it meant that the team could discuss, as Tony and Bruce had moved at once to move Ultron’s lanky form--corpse? Was a machine ever alive?--back to the table it had come from.

Steve’s frustration was mounting by the second as Tony deflected and rejected any blame sent his way. Bruce was clearly uncomfortable, explaining the work they had been attempting in full and showing ready remorse for the crisis that had come from it; but Tony was hard-faced, unapologetic even when Thor seized him by his shirt front and got right in his face about endangering them by trying to take control of the mind stone. 

Steve intervened, stopping Thor from causing Tony actual bodily harm, but he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t feel a flicker of the same serious rage, himself.

Tony’s eyes swept over each member of the team in turn, not looking for forgiveness, but rather seeming determined to make them see his point. There was an underlying pain when he reminded them of the army that had come down through the wormhole, almost an edge of panic as he described the glimpse he had gotten when he had taken the missile up there. Something far bigger, worse, stronger than anything that they had faced together to date. 

“We’re the Avengers--we can bust arms dealers all the livelong day, but...that up there, that’s the endgame. How were you guys planning on beating that?” Tony’s face was both hard and scared, a mixture of emotions that Steve was not used to seeing on the billionaire’s handsome features. He looked more tired than the super soldier had ever seen him.

“Together.” He kept his tone level, not raising his voice. Regardless of his anger at Tony for what he had done behind their backs--and for dragging Bruce into helping him with it, which Steve _knew_ the scientist could not have felt okay about--he wanted to get through to Tony, not just back him into a defensive corner.

Tony’s lip curled, and Steve had the distinct sense that he could see through the efforts and did not appreciate Steve trying to be careful with him. “We’ll lose.”

“Then we’ll do that together, too,” he countered, but it did make something in his chest clench with fear. That was not something that Steve particularly enjoyed experiencing. “Let’s--just call it, for tonight,” he went on, forcing his voice to remain steady. “Dr. Cho, can you help Maria finish--” The doctor nodded, moving over to take the tweezers that Maria was using to carefully extract glass splinters from the soles of her feet. Clint drifted away from the wall at once to assist, letting Maria hook her arm over his shoulders so that she didn’t need to apply any weight to her feet, half-hopping and half-limping along as Clint and Cho guided her from the lab. 

Nat’s eyes met Steve’s; she blinked, somehow managing to flick her glance towards Tony in the same movement, and when Steve just gazed back at her-- _yes, he intended to have words with the other man_ \--she rose as well, following the others out of the room.

“I need to run some more diagnostics,” Bruce muttered, seemingly oblivious to the tension rising between Steve and Tony. “I mean, I know it looks like he’s gone, but JARVIS is a complex system--I can’t imagine Ultron really managed to completely erase him--” He appeared to be talking to himself more than them, and he wandered out of the lab, no doubt heading toward his own room to use his personal computer for whatever he wanted to test.

Steve looked to Thor again. “I know you said the trail went cold, but can you--”

“I’ll continue hunting it,” Thor confirmed, still glaring at Tony’s back. “Contact me if you need me to return.” With that, he turned and stalked out.

Sighing, Steve looked at Rhodes. “Can you help him off--and be his communications contact, here?” He saw the flash of confusion and then understanding, and Rhodes nodded, looking over at Tony; the other man hadn’t turned around yet. Rhodes murmured an affirmation, following Thor and letting the lab door slide shut behind him with a soft, mechanical hiss.

“You gonna take your turn lifting me off my feet to express yourself?” Tony asked, still facing his computer screen. The line of his shoulders was so tense, Steve imagined it would feel like steel if he touched Tony right then. “I know you could. You and the god of thunder, there, both strong enough.” He tilted his head, looking back at Steve over his shoulder, and there was both defensiveness and frustration in his eyes. “Or is this going to be a classic Captain America lecture?”

Steve huffed, unfolding his arms and taking a few steps closer. “Those lectures were designed for selling war bonds and scolding school kids in detention. I don’t think saying ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ will do much, in this case.”

Tony smirked, no mirth visible in the expression. “Well, no. But that’s partly because I can see just how pissed you _are_ . You’re angry _and_ disappointed.”

“You blame me?” Steve asked archly. The negative emotions were bubbling a little closer to the surface, and he was hyper-aware of the fact that it was only the two of them in the room. This felt precariously similar to the moment of rising heat that he’d felt in Sam’s bedroom, on the run with Natasha. Something was about to snap...but he wasn’t sure that whatever happened next was going to be a bad thing.

“You and me, we’ve got a history of winding up too tight and then going for each other’s throats,” Tony muttered. There was a bitter amusement in his tone. He turned around at last, leaning back against the computer station with complete nonchalance; he even crossed his fucking ankles, and his hands slid into his pants pockets as if he wasn’t concerned in the slightest about what Steve might do. It made Steve want to shake him. “No, I guess I don’t blame you for being pissed at me. No more than I blamed you for being afraid to let Banner loosen up, back when we were all on the helicarrier.”

Oh, fucking hell. Steve’s face darkened, his breath hitching a little as more restless anger simmered up through him. “I wanted to keep us all safe. Bruce didn’t resent that.” He licked his lips, and Tony’s eyes fell to his mouth. The itch deepened under Steve’s skin. “You’re pushing me on purpose, Stark.”

Finally, the stress and tension that had overtaken Tony from the instant they’d heard Ultron’s voice began to crack. He even almost smiled. “Isn’t that kinda my M.O., Captain?”

Steve took one more step, which brought them officially into each other’s personal space. “Guess so. And every time, I end up wanting to slam you against a wall. Or over the nearest flat surface.”

The words flew out without a second thought--and before being drawn into the group dynamic that Natasha and Clint had orbiting around them, Steve might have stuttered and immediately apologized for overstepping. He’d attempted to backtrack in the truck with Nat, after all.

But now everything was different. 

And more importantly, Tony did not react in a manner that would have prompted an apology, even if Steve had instantly rushed to prepare one. The dark-haired man’s eyes leapt back to Steve’s, widening, his pupils expanding, and his lips parted to let out a startled exhalation that sounded--at least in Steve’s ears--like something tauntingly close to an aborted groan. 

“Well, well.” Tony’s voice no longer rang with arrogance. “No more shy Capsicle, huh? Natasha’s done well with you.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You know I grew up in Brooklyn, right? The boy scout bullshit was a part of the Captain America performance. Not really my personality.” He arched one eyebrow. “Nat didn’t have to do a damned thing other than make it clear that I was allowed to show other sides of myself around her.”

Tony’s lips twitched, a hint of the usual smirk edging back into his expression. “Don’t need to hold any of that back on my account, either. You could definitely feel free. Around me too, I mean.”

The setup for a snarky little callback was too perfect to pass up. Steve knew his face had to look smug as he tilted his head just a little, looking Tony up and down with the same cocky self-righteousness that he knew he’d radiated when they’d been seconds from breaking into a fist fight on the helicarrier, right before Clint’s arrow had blown through the propellers. “Oh, I’m starting to want you to make me.”

The spark lit in Tony’s eyes as he recognized his own taunt. He reached out one hand, no hesitation or caution in the movement, seemingly going for Steve’s shirt front--and somehow it was that self-assurance that made the itch snap into fire, blazing under Steve’s skin.

He batted Tony’s hand aside effortlessly, taking care to reign in the strength of his swing; he was deflecting Tony’s arm, not trying to break it. It was his fingers that curled into the lapels of the vest that Tony was still wearing over his button down--he hadn’t changed after the party, none of them had--and Steve took a few strides forward, bypassing the computer terminal and backing Tony into the wall with a solid _thump_ of his body hitting the steel-reinforced drywall.

“Shit,” Tony gasped, grappling at his shoulders. “Knowing and experiencing are seriously fucking different--”

“Quiet,” Steve said shortly, knowing that his continued smirk would soften the heat of the order. He released Tony’s vest and caught his wrists, pinning them level with his shoulders. Following the momentum of the moment, Steve surged forward, reinforcing the command for silence with a hard, borderline savage kiss.

Tony let out a truly pornographic sound, lips parting at once, and Steve accepted the invitation immediately. His tongue dove in to explore the other man’s mouth, tasting and dominating the kiss, coaxing Tony’s tongue into responding. Steve could feel feeble attempts to tug away from his restraining hold, presumably to get in some touching of his own, and he merely growled his refusal, fingers flexing to remind Tony of who was in charge, here.

Still, he knew that Tony wasn’t going to just roll over--metaphorically or literally--and take it, not like Clint would. The shorter man wriggled a little in place, and before Steve caught it, Tony had managed to get one leg between his, and he rocked forward, grinding their hips together roughly.

“You’re already fully hard,” Steve panted against his lips. “Just from this?”

Tony’s eyes rolled a little, and he managed to get in another few seconds of disjointed humping before Steve cocked his hips, pinning Tony’s entire body to the wall. “Pretty sure you’ve been made aware of how hot you are,” Tony muttered, his head thudding back in frustration at being unable to keep moving. “Of fucking course I’m hard just from you goddamn slamming me against--”

He cut off with a strangled sound as Steve forced his arms up higher, getting both wrists trapped with one of his own hands, while the other dropped to grope between Tony’s legs. “Okay--yeah, no, _now_ I’m fully hard--Jesus, Cap, can you just--”

Steve kissed him again, biting at his bottom lip just harshly enough to make Tony shudder. “You can ask, but there’s no promise I’m gonna give you whatever it is,” Steve rumbled, and he reveled in the way that Tony’s entire body trembled from the groan that he let out. “Just so we’re clear, I’m still _damned_ pissed about the Ultron issue.”

“Yeah, yeah--” Tony panted, a little too dismissively for Steve’s liking; he was attempting to hook one leg up around Steve’s hip, though he had nothing on the older man’s strength. “Okay, _askin’_ \--I’m pretty sure you could hold my weight up against this wall without breaking a sweat, am I wrong?”

 _Oh_ . Steve laughed, dark and low. “If I wanted to, Stark, I could hold Banner up--in either form. Not that I’d try, with the green guy...” He smirked, pressing Tony’s arms harder to the wall without a word-- _stay_ \---and then dropping both of his hands to the brunette’s hips. “You’re a lightweight by comparison.” He could see the battle waging in Tony’s eyes; they glowed like amber as he flicked his glance upward, seemingly depating, and Steve clicked his tongue in teasing reprimand.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, his fingers moving to the front of Tony’s suit pants. “You want me to continue what I’m doin’, then you’re gonna be fucking well-behaved and keep your damned hands where I put them.”

Tony sucked in air, peeking down to watch Steve as he very intentionally, very slowly began unfastening the button and then the zipper of his pants. “Not playing fair, Cap, you know how long I’ve waited--”

“You can touch when I say so,” Steve cut him off, and he slipped his hand under the fabric, finding the hard line of Tony’s cock through his silk briefs. “We can make it slow and sappy another time, Stark, right now, I’m going to take my frustration for your actions and your fucking _attitude_ out on your stupidly fine ass.”

“Christ, such language,” Tony groaned, thudding his head back again as he bucked forward into Steve’s touch. “Boy scout bullshit, indeed...foul-mouthed motherfucker--”

Steve yanked hard, drawing Tony’s pants and briefs down in one swift movement and making him stutter off in shock at suddenly being bare from the waist down. Steve only had to duck down for a moment to get them completely off, along with the man’s gleaming Italian leather shoes--not a thing he was fucking wearing could possibly cost less than $1,000, and somehow that was just obnoxiously attractive--and then he was upright again, his hips once more pinning Tony’s to the wall. 

Tony let out a shocked sound, rutting forward helplessly. Looking down, Steve saw that he was already leaking pre-come, leaving a darkened streak along the hip of Steve’s own pants. “Messy bitch,” he muttered, smirking. “I think I’m going to need to make you scream for me, Stark."

An affronted noise escaped Tony. “I don’t _scream_ for anyo--”

Steve reached between their bodies, his fingers closing tightly around Tony’s cock and using the man’s own pre-come to slick his palm before giving the shaft a few swift, hard strokes. He grinned smugly at the tortured sound that he got in return, letting his hand slide back further until Steve’s fingers could tease over Tony’s balls, back to his taint. “You will for me.” 

The pre-come wouldn’t be enough, but it worked for a tease; Steve let the tip of his middle finger rub over Tony’s entrance, feeling how the furled muscle quivered and clenched against the suggestion of penetration. “Have you never--”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Have you met Pepper, of course I have. Woman’s a goddamn firecracker when she decides she’s in charge. Just--emotions running high right now.” He inhaled deeply, and Steve felt his hole relax slightly, allowing the blonde man to just barely press inside. “Thought you were angling for some hate sex here, Cap, not couples’ counseling.”

Withdrawing his hand--Steve smirked when Tony responded with a low whine of protest--he sucked his fingers, getting a taste of the shorter man’s pre-come and making his skin slick so that when he reached back between Tony’s thighs, he was able to start pressing into him with more intention. “I don’t hate you, Tony--never have, and never will.” He worked one finger in to the first knuckle, grinning when Tony groaned and let his head thud back against the wall again. “This is just _angry_ sex.”

“Your take on anger--is pretty chill, then,” Tony growled, and Steve laughed openly at that.

“Well, fucking you with insufficient prep would be leaving anger behind and heading into sadism,” Steve shot back, twisting his hand to get the one finger in all the way. “I want to drive my point home, but I need your ass to be able to handle what I dish out. Literally and otherwise.” He did take Tony’s impatience into account, though, and sped up the task of making sure that the dark-haired man was stretched enough. Steve knew what was minimally safe, and he knew that his size was nothing to sneeze at.

Once he was four-fingers deep, Steve was more than ready to drop the niceties and get things moving.

When he pulled his fingers free, Tony made a sound of disapproval, and Steve rolled his eyes as he pressed his spit-slick fingers to the other man’s mouth. “Don’t you start,” he growled, pointedly ignoring Tony’s smirk as he closed his lips around the digits and sucked tauntingly. “I promise, you’re gonna prefer what’s coming next.”

Keeping his pants on with Clint had been a matter of kink; now, with Tony, it was back to being situational necessity, like it had been with Natasha. Steve had no doubt that Nat would have subtly locked the lab door behind them all, but that didn’t mean he needed to keep his ass on display if anyone came back.

He pushed his suit pants down only as far as he needed to in order to free his cock, using the remainder of his spit from opening Tony up to give himself a few strokes. “You got a safeword, Tony?”

“Nope.” Tony emphasized the _P_ sound with a nice, sharp pop. “Don’t need one. Whatever you do, Cap, I’m going to fucking enjoy it. Bruises and aches the next day are just perks of good sex. And--”

“Oh, my God, you talk too much,” Steve muttered. He hooked his hands underneath Tony’s thighs, lifting the smaller man off of his feet. Tony gave a shocked grunt and promptly locked his legs around Steve’s hips, and Steve couldn’t have choreographed it better as he felt his cock slide along the heated line of Tony’s ass. “Lube--”

“Spit,” Tony countered, locking his arms around Steve’s shoulders for a little additional support. “‘S good enough--use one of your hands--”

Steve worked one arm back up, spitting into his palm and reaching back down immediately to slick his cock. He could feel the heat of Tony’s body waiting for him. “Hold on tight.” He felt Tony’s limbs tighten around his shoulders and hips, aided by Steve’s arm still locked around his waist; he was pinned firmly between the taller man’s body and the wall, allowing Steve to use his hand, lining himself up and beginning to push inside.

As soon as he was in, Tony gave a low, groaning cry, ducking his face to hide against the side of Steve’s throat. “Jesus--I knew, your suit does jack-shit to hide how thick you are--but _fuck me_ , I didn’t expect--”

Steve’s hand slammed against the wall as he thrust forward with a hard snap of his hips, burying himself to the base in Tony’s ass and savoring the much louder sound, almost a yelp, that tore out of him in response. “Hence the takin’ my time on prep. But you’re open enough, now...”

Tony gasped, jerking back enough for Steve to see that his eyes were almost black, his pupils dilated almost comically as he clawed at Steve’s shoulders. “Do it--”

He was cut off as Steve slammed their mouths together, simultaneously using the wall to keep Tony from so much as moving as he rolled his lower body again, and then again, fucking into Tony without ever drawing back enough to even risk him slipping. The kiss was just as demanding and relentless as his body; Steve bit and sucked at the swell of Tony’s bottom lip until he submitted and opened to him, and Steve took full advantage. His tongue worked in rhythm with his cock, pressing in deep and demanding that Tony simply take what was being done to him.

From the choked-off whines and moans escaping from him around the intrusion of Steve’s tongue, the shorter man definitely didn’t appear to object.

He could feel Tony trying to move his hands, sliding his fingers underneath the collar of Steve’s shirt. With a dark chuckle, Steve adjusted; he seized both of Tony’s wrists, yanking them up over his head and slamming them back against the wall, held immobile in his grip. He was more than strong enough to hold Tony suspended there, especially with some of the man’s weight still being supported by his legs around Steve’s waist as he was rocked back against the wall with every continued thrust. “Motherfucker, Cap, c’mon--’M dyin’ here--”

“You don’t need to touch me to come on my cock,” Steve growled back, and he grinned as Tony’s eyes actually rolled back in his head slightly. “Look at that,” he panted, shifting his hips to make sure that he was hitting Tony’s prostate on the next thrust. “Big shot with all the money and toys, radiating sex everywhere you go...and under it all, you’re a sucker for a hard grip and some dirty talk.”

Getting both of Tony’s wrists trapped in one of his hands, Steve lowered the other until his fingertips settled at the base of Tony’s throat. He could feel the man’s pulse, hammering hard enough to almost be visible, thrumming beneath the skin. 

Tony stared back at him, not a trace of fear tainting the arousal in his face as he let Steve manhandle him. “You imagining killing me, Cap?”

Steve’s lip curled. “You really don’t get how fucking deeply I _care_ about you, do you. You fucking idiot.” When Tony opened his mouth to retort, Steve let out a low snarl, tightening his hand enough to make Tony stay silent, though he could still breathe. “Nope. You’re done mouthing off tonight, Stark. All I want to hear out of you anymore is ‘yes,’ ‘please,’ and ‘more.’” 

He gave a particularly hard thrust of his hips, bottoming out inside of Tony, and Steve grinned at the raw noise that it earned him. “I can feel that, right here,” he rumbled, pressing his palm firmly against Tony’s throat. “Can feel your breath and every sound you make for me.” His other hand tightened over Tony’s wrists, drawing them a little higher up the wall; it forced Tony’s spine to arch, pushing his hips down more sharply and impaling him harder on Steve’s cock. “Fuck, now _that_ is pretty.”

Tony’s breathing was more ragged now, and he was no longer fighting for control; Steve could feel him relax, trusting the blonde man’s hold on him and focusing instead on writhing as much as his pinned position would allow, almost managing to use Steve’s cock to fuck himself. “Close--I’m--”

“Do it.” Steve’s voice was rougher than he imagined Tony had ever heard it, judging by the strangled whimper that he let out. 

His hips sped up, and now his panted words were being underlined by the delicious slap of skin-on-skin as he buried himself inside of Tony with every brutal thrust. “Come on, Stark. You’re going to come just from my cock inside of you and my hand on your throat, and you’re gonna come _hard_ for me. And then, I’m going to keep fucking you until I get off, maybe let you come again--I don’t care if it’s dry--but you’re doing it without a single touch to your dick because you are so fucking stubborn and pigheaded--”

It wasn’t clear if it was his words, or the intensity of the fucking, or even just the fantastic sounds of their bodies slamming together. But Tony finally broke, letting out a shout that might just have escalated into a proper scream if his vocal cords weren’t being compressed along with his airway under the unyielding force of Steve’s hand.

Even better, Steve felt it when Tony shattered into his climax; his entire body went rigid, shuddering between the wall and Steve’s chest as his cock leapt against his stomach, smearing his release over both of their party shirts. 

Steve almost hoped it stained. He wouldn’t let Tony discard the soiled garment, either.

He let out a broken-off string of profanities at the overwhelming _tightness_ of Tony’s ass clenching down around his cock from the intensity of his orgasm. Steve had fully intended to drag this out, and to try and get that threatened second round out Tony--but goddamn, it felt as if he was trying to literally milk it out of the older man. And Steve didn’t feel any need to deny himself.

“Fuck, _Tony_ \--” Steve’s hands dropped back to his hips, hoisting him higher up against the wall. Distantly he registered that Tony was actually keeping his arms raised--either too involved in the heat of the moment, or too blissed-out from his own orgasm to try and maintain his normal levels of sass.

Steve’s vision nearly went white from the force of pleasure that exploded through him as his climax hit. The lingering cognizant part of his brain was vaguely relieved that he had moved his hand away from Tony’s throat, because Steve knew the kinds of bruises he could leave when he was in the heat of it--sex, a fight, whatever. There was a damned compelling reason that he tended to go through half a dozen punching bags any time he had the chance to hit the gym.

“You seriously--are having no fucking problem, holding me up, are you,” Tony panted against the side of his neck, and Steve gave a hoarse chuckle. “Christ, I should’ve tried to piss you off this hard years ago.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve shifted his position to keep his balance without having to let Tony get back on his feet. “Or you could just ask for a good hard fuck whenever you need it. I’d prefer not having to deal with homicidal machinery in between rounds.”

“Mm, fuck, that’s right--you owe me a dry orgasm later,” Tony shot back, smirking. “Jesus, are you--you’re not still hard, are you?”

“Nope. I just stay that big,” Steve retorted, grinning smugly at the raw sound that Tony let out at the words. “Guessin’ I’ve just earned myself another faithful cockslut on the team, huh?”

“I get to top at some point,” Tony grumbled, but then he squeezed his inner muscles, gasping when Steve reacted promptly by tightening his fingers on the smaller man’s hips again. “Yeah, okay, fuck--Goddamn, gonna need to mold a fucking dildo based on this monster. Pep will go insane to see me taking it...” He tipped his head back against the wall, smiling faintly. “Jokes aside, though...I’m gonna fix it, Steve.”

Finally, Steve swayed enough to let Tony ease back to the floor, and he eased his spent cock out of the other man, then lifted the hem of his shirt to check and make sure the bruises he’d left weren’t signs of worse injury. “I know you will. And we’re gonna help you.” Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to the darkest of the bruises, which held hints of distinct finger-shaped lines curling around Tony’s hip. He heard the soft inhale from above his head; he’d surprised Tony.

Smirking, Steve slid his hand around Tony’s thigh and tugged him a step away from the wall, twisting him around to put him facing the wall. Using his other hand, Steve delivered a pair of good, hard swats to Tony’s bare ass, leaving a lovely pink handprint on each cheek. “Cap, what the fuck--”

“Get to work fixing it,” Steve said, using what Clint had informed him was his _panties-dropping military_ voice. Straightening back up, he leaned in to kiss the sweaty curve of Tony’s neck just above his shirt collar, then nipped at his earlobe, grinning when Tony let out a cracked noise. “Call me if you need me to come back in here.”

He stepped back, doing up his own pants and glancing up at the ceiling over the door; the line where JARVIS’ presence was normally glowing strongly was off. Of course. Sighing, Steve grabbed his jacket and went to unlock the lab door, glancing back one last time to make sure--

Tony was pulling his pants back on, leaning his shoulders back against the wall for support. He smirked when he saw Steve stop. “All good here,” he said, adding a wink simply because he was that much of a little shit. “I’ll page ya, Cap.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve nodded and left the room. He’d check in with Maria, and then maybe see if Nat was with Bruce or Clint...

The lab door slid shut with its usual secure hiss, and Tony let out a long, contented sigh as he fastened his belt, completely unbothered by the streaks of his own release cooling on his skin beneath the fabric. Steve’s was slowly dripping from his hole and making the seat of his suit pants slick, but it was nothing that dry cleaning couldn’t handle.

“FRIDAY?” Tony straightened his shirt out, going back to the computer and waking it back up. “You got that?”

“Security footage of the lab saved to an encrypted file and emailed to your personal server only,” she confirmed in her soothing Irish accent. “Footage is deleted from Avengers-accessible surveillance. Only you can approve anyone seeing the last hour in this room.”

“You’re good to me.”


End file.
